The Little Things Count More
by SophieSaulie
Summary: With only a month to go, everyone gets nostalgic with memories.
1. Chapter 1

The Little Things Count More

**The Little Things Count More**

**CHAPTER 1**

Sam was rubbing his eyes from exhaustion, looking over at Dean who was lying in his motel bed, sleeping uncomfortably. The hunt they had just finished had been brutal. It took both of them and Bobby to bring down the beast that had terrorized a town and had almost killed a little girl. Sam couldn't help, but grin and shake his head as he remembered Dean scooping up the girl into his arms to keep her from being killed, only to get slimed by the monster's poisonous saliva. It was deadly to children, but for adults it was harmless, if you can call getting sick with the worst flu you've ever had in your life, harmless, but it wasn't fatal and Dean would just have to ride out the symptoms until it was out of his system. In his eyes, a small price to pay to save a child. According to Bobby, it would be over in two days. Dean was already feverish and achy, but the pain felt magnified because the venom was so potent and penetrated the muscles. Sam could hear Dean groan and saw him curl up into a ball on the bed occasionally.

Sam sighed. He had watched as the little girl thanked Dean, tears streaming down her face in a mix of fear and gratitude. He had comforted her by telling her that she would be okay and that the monster would never, ever hurt her again. She had tried to hug him, but Dean warned her that the slime on him would hurt her. She had asked with concern, _"But what about you?"_ and he had told her that nothing could hurt him. That had made her smile and seeing that Dean's face didn't have any slime on it, she leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. Sam smiled remembering the flush that came over Dean's face. He had never been good at taking gratitude or compliments. He was also a sucker for little kids. Sam then hitched in a breath as he thought about Dean never becoming a father.

After the little girl had left with her grateful mom and dad, Dean had begun to feel the effects of the venom. He had started feeling weak and had begun to cramp up. Bobby and Sam had to hose Dean down before touching him to get the slime off and Sam watched as Dean struggled to keep himself standing and alert so that they could do it. Sam had always marveled at Dean's ability to completely override his body's natural inclination to give into pain. Once the slime was off, they both helped Dean back to the motel room, dried him off and put him into his sweats, then laid him down on the bed. Dean let out a relieved groan and fell asleep immediately.

Sam had told Bobby that he could take over from there, but Bobby had refused to go saying that Sam would need his help when the symptoms got worse. Sam knew though that it had been more than that. They both knew that every moment counted now and Sam had felt a deepening connection grow between them. He was grateful that Bobby had insisted on staying. They were just a month away from Dean leaving them and neither of them was willing to waste a single moment. Truth be told, he didn't think he could go through losing Dean alone.

He heard the motel room door open, breaking him from his thoughts. It was Bobby who had returned from the drug store with medications and food.

"Hey, Bobby," Sam greeted, his voice tired and distant.

"I got everything we might need, but I gotta be honest with you, I don't think any of this stuff will help much. Still, it couldn't hurt to try them. Anything to make it easier on Dean."

"Thanks," Sam said.

"How is he?" Bobby asked, noticing Sam's concern.

"He's been moaning in his sleep so I know he's hurting, but I wanted to let him get as much rest as he could before I woke him up."

Bobby could only nod. He watched Sam look away from Dean and fuss with his hands.

"He's going to be okay, son. This venom's not fatal," Bobby tried to reassure.

"I know. I'm not worried about that…well, I am, but –"

"You okay?"

"I'm never going to be okay again," Sam said with a resignation that saddened Bobby.

"Sam…"

"I can't believe there's only a month left…less than that now."

Bobby just looked at Sam, unable to find the right words, if there were any at all.

"A part of me wants to go back and give Dean what he had wanted in the first place. I was so obsessed with saving him, I didn't even want to consider the idea of wasting time doing things that weren't as important as saving him…now, knowing that there isn't a way to…the trickster was right."

"I wouldn't put any stock in what the trickster told you."

"He showed me what life would be like for me without Dean in it. What I might become if I let Dean's death drive me to revenge. I wasted time just being with my brother, Bobby. How can I ever get that back? Give that time back to him?" Sam asked rhetorically.

His face then became wistful.

"You know, when we were kids, if there was a cold or flu or anything that was going around, I'd catch it. Dean seemed immune…"

Sam smiled. Bobby just sat and listened, understanding that Sam needed to talk things out.

"Anyway, every time I'd get sick, Dean would be there, making me eat that chicken noodle soup in a can, telling me stories to help me sleep…"

Bobby could only smile at a young man's memories of being a little boy.

"He rubbed that pink calamine lotion on me when I had the chicken pox so I wouldn't scratch so much…he'd rub my back if I was throwing up…God, I can't remember a single time when I was sick or hurt that he wasn't there fixing it. Dad had been there for the big injuries from the hunts, but that was only until Dean had learned to do the first aid himself then it would be him stitching me up while Dad went out and killed the monster."

Sam looked over at his brother and his eyes began to well.

"And now, I only have a month left with him…he's sick as a dog and all I can do for him is wait it out until it passes then we go back to hunting until the next time he gets hurt or when…"

Bobby felt every frustration and sadness that Sam was. For all the knowledge and experience that he had, he still couldn't save the one person who was worth everything to them and in no small way, to the fate of humanity. Sometimes Bobby found himself wondering if the deal had been a way to take the best advantage they had for winning the war out of the picture.

"I know how you feel. I wish I had the words to make it all right, but I don't," Bobby said.

"I know, Bobby. Lately, I can't stop thinking about everything Dean has done for me and I just feel like I haven't done nearly enough for him."

"Sam –"

"It's true, I mean, I've been thinking about when we were kids and how unfair it was that Dean never got to be a regular kid because of me."

"Does Dean think that?" Bobby asked softly.

"Of course not, he just jokes that he was never just a regular kid, that he was the kid with a superhero for a dad and a geek for a brother, but I know he's just saying that to make me feel better."

"Dean did what had to be done to keep you and your dad safe. And he will for you, until the day he can't do it anymore. It's how he's built, but, make no mistake, when it comes to you, there are no limits he won't cross. Don't ask him to do otherwise. He knows no other way."

Bobby saw Sam's anguish and it cut him to his heart. He understood. The look that he had exchanged with Dean when he had thanked him for saving his life was one a father would give to his son. Dean had risked everything to save him from his nightmare and had opened up to him about considering him like a father. He had no idea what those words had meant to Bobby. It had been those words that had snapped him out of his dream. It was what Dean did best, reaching out when it was sorely needed. Bobby often wondered how either of them would survive without that, without Dean coming to their rescue.

Their thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of Dean waking up and groaning. Sam rushed over to the bed.

"Hey, how you feeling?"

Dean opened his eyes, squinting at the minimal light in the room and waited for his vision to clear. He saw Sam and grinned groggily.

"I'm just fan-tastic," Dean said, the sarcasm not lost on Sam and Bobby.

"Can you sit up to take some pills? They might help a little."

Dean nodded, but as soon as he tried he winced and his strength gave way. Bobby helped Sam prop Dean up with pillows until he was comfortable. Dean's lack of resistance was a sure sign that he wasn't feeling himself. Dean was breathing as if he had just run a marathon and grunted from the spasms that were hitting him. Sam handed him some pills then a cup of water, but pain riddled through Dean and his hand trembled, dropping the cup.

"Crap…" Dean uttered through the pain.

Sam refilled the cup and helped Dean swallow the piils. Dean leaned back against the pillows and just grinned.

"You're just loving this, aren't you?" Dean teased.

"What?" Sam said, feigning innocence.

"You know what. Me being sick and you having all the control," Dean then playfully scowled.

Sam's expression softened and Dean caught it.

"About time. It's my turn," Sam said, but Dean had picked up that Sam hadn't meant what he had intended with those words. Instead of a humorous jibe, it had ended up sounding as if Sam really felt he owed him something.

"You all right?" Dean asked, worried.

"Yeh, I'm not the one puking his guts out," Sam said, feebly putting up a brave face again, but he felt it crumbling fast and he knew he couldn't hold it for long.

"Sam?"

Sam couldn't keep back his emotions anymore and had to get some air.

"I'll be right back. I…I forgot something…in the car," Sam said as he hurried out of the room.

**oooo**

**TBC**


	2. Chapter 2

The Little Things Count More

**The Little Things Count More**

**CHAPTER 2**

Dean looked over at Bobby for some answers.

"Bobby? Is he okay?" Dean's voice suddenly sounding stronger, filled with concern over Sam.

"He's just tired is all," Bobby said unconvincingly.

Dean's hunter instincts caught the uncertainty in Bobby's voice and concern was replaced with frustration.

"Bobby, what the hell is going on?" Dean said, arching slightly from another spasm of pain. "Is something wrong with Sam?"

"No, Dean, nothing a little fresh air can't help."

"Then what's wrong? With the both of you. Did something happen that you're not telling me about?"

"Nothing's happened, Sam and me, we were just reminiscing and the memories got a hold of us, that's all." Bobby finally said.

"Memories? Memories of what?" Dean calmed, but fisting the sheets trying to control his pain.

"Oh, of when Sam was sick and you taking care of him," Bobby smiled a little.

"Why would Sam be thinking about that? You'd think he'd want to forget all that stuff."

"Well, you being sick, he just couldn't help remembering."

"Why would he leave the room like that?"

Bobby looked into Dean's genuinely confused face and wished to everything holy that he could take his place. A soul like Dean's just shouldn't be taken away. He had seen his share of injustice in his life, not the least of which was his own wife being possessed, but nothing had challenged his understanding of why bad things happened to good people more than thinking of Dean. He couldn't muster any kind of justification for what would happen to him. Dean was the best of men, the best Bobby had ever known in his lifetime and he had known plenty. They were no less heroes for sacrificing their lives to fighting evil, but none had loved as fully as Dean, none had given up their lives, let alone doomed their own souls to Hell, to give life to another as Dean had, and Bobby knew, none could have faced Hell with such courage, himself included.

Despite Dean's outward cynicism towards humanity and its fate, it hadn't surprised Bobby when Sam had told him that Dean wouldn't sacrifice an innocent's life to save others as they faced an attacking demon horde, to him, doing that would make them less human. Bobby could have predicted that Dean would refuse to submit to such a compromise. Sam had admitted to feeling ashamed at believing the cost acceptable. Bobby couldn't help, but feel pride well inside of him at Dean's conviction, but it made the injustice all the more unjust.

"Bobby? You still with me?" Dean asked, noticing that Bobby had "wandered off".

"Yeh, yeh, I was just remembering there myself," Bobby said, hoping to change the subject."

"About what?"

Bobby hesitated for a second, but then a real memory surfaced. It never ceased to amaze him how quickly that memory always came to mind.

"About my wife…"

Dean looked into Bobby's eyes and saw the raw pain still in them.

"I was just thinking about how I wished I could have saved her."

"You didn't know," Dean comforted.

"Makes no difference. You hope that it does, but it doesn't. We were thinking about having kids when she was possessed."

"I'm sorry, Bobby," Dean said as sincerely as he had back at the hospital.

"Don't be," Bobby said replaying the same conversation. "Remember when I said that everyone got into hunting somehow? Well, it's true. Nobody I know chose this life. They were thrown into it by something life changing."

"Did you ever think about walking away?" Dean asked, thinking about his own desire to leave the life.

"Hundreds of times," Bobby admitted.

"Why didn't you?"

"Couldn't. Felt I owed it to my wife, you know? To save others because I couldn't save her."

Dean nodded in understanding. He then paused and looked into Bobby's eyes.

"It's about my going to Hell in a month, isn't it? Why Sam left the room," Dean said abruptly. "Sam is scared, isn't he?"

Bobby looked back into Dean's eyes and couldn't help, but smile with pride again for Dean's keen sense of understanding.

"Yeh. So am I," Bobby admitted, unashamed. "We both hate feeling helpless."

Dean nodded.

"I get that," Dean said stoically. "I'm sorry for putting both of you through this."

Bobby's eyes began to fill with tears and his mouth went slack with amazement at Dean's completely unnecessary apology.

"Don't be sorry, son. You deserve more…you deserve better…not this. You shouldn't be going to Hell."

"My choice, Bobby. Got no one to blame, but myself, but I don't regret it. Never have…" Dean said tiredly. "Been scared…still scared, but don't tell Sammy that. Don't want to go to Hell you both know that. Kidded myself for awhile into thinking that I didn't really make that deal or that it didn't matter…guess that was the denial phase, huh?"

Dean stiffened, groaned then panted through the wave of pain that ran through him. Bobby became concerned and went over to him, but Dean shook his head.

"Give…me a minute…" Dean stuttered as he breathed through the pain then sighed when the pain lessened.

"You all right?"

"Yeh, yeh, just a bad one…does it get much worse?"

Bobby stalled answering.

"I'll take that as a yes," Dean joked then blinked as if struggling to stay awake.

"Get some sleep, Dean. You're going to need it."

"Leave it to you to never mince words," Dean smiled then looked seriously at Bobby. "Bobby, I meant what I said…you **are** like a father to me, to both of us…thanks for sticking around…Sam's gonna need you…**I'm** gonna need you."

Bobby was struck speechless by his words as he watched Dean finally let himself doze off.

**oooo**

**TBC**


	3. Chapter 3

The Little Things Count More

**The Little Things Count More**

**CHAPTER 3**

A few minutes later, Sam walked back in, his eyes and face reflecting the tears he had shed.

"Is he asleep?" Sam asked, his voice a barely a rasp.

"Yeh, just fell asleep now."

"I'm sorry I walked out I-"

"It's okay, Sam, but Dean figured out why."

Sam shook his head and sat at the table.

"I don't think I can get through this, Bobby."

"You will. Neither of us will like it, but we'll get through this. We owe Dean that."

Sam looked over at Dean's sleeping form and rubbed his hand across his face.

"I owe Dean way more than just to watch him die," Sam said.

"Sam, I promise you, we won't stop trying to get him back and I know your brother, if there is a way to claw himself out of Hell, he'll find it and do it."

"Maybe, but you and I know that even if he does, he won't be the same."

"We don't know that. Look at your dad. He came out the same man who went in," Bobby said, then couldn't help a smile. "Wouldn't surprise me if Hell couldn't wait to be rid of him."

Sam looked at Bobby and couldn't help snorting in amusement at the thought himself.

"Yeh, yeh, I can see that," Sam said as he thought fondly of his tough and determined father.

"Besides, you're forgetting something. Dean's soul is decent, strong, convicted. He understands Hell in ways that no one who's ever made a deal does. From what I've read, you don't become evil overnight. You're transformed over time. Hell changes a soul. It slowly destroys what's left of the person and leaves behind nothingness that gets filled with everything dark and monstrous. Dean will fight it, Sam. Fight it tooth and nail."

Sam looked into Bobby's eyes, a palpable sadness in them.

"I know he will, Bobby. That's the problem. He shouldn't have to, but he will, hoping I'll save him and I…I can't promise him that I will."

Bobby had nothing more to say. There wasn't anything more to say. Sam was right. Neither of them could make that promise to Dean and not feel like they had betrayed him somehow.

Sam walked over to Dean, picked up the wet washcloth, squeezed most of the water from it then placed it on Dean's forehead. Dean stirred with the coolness and his eyes opened slowly.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you," Sam said.

"S'okay. You all right? You rushed out of here in a hurry…had a hot date or something?" Dean smiled, telling Sam he was teasing him, his body hitching again with pain.

"Yeh, right," Sam smiled shakily back. "How's it going?"

"Swell." Dean joked. "According to Bobby, I got a ways to go before it becomes a real party."

Sam then became serious.

"Sorry, I should've been here –"

"Don't be sorry…this isn't your fault…"

Sam turned away.

"Doesn't feel like it."

Dean watched Sam turn away and looked over at Bobby. Bobby gave him a knowing look and it didn't take much for Dean to put two and two together.

"Hey, you got a golden opportunity here to get even," Dean tried to joke and hoped to distract Sam. "Don't tell me you're going to waste it."

Sam turned around.

"What?" He said confused.

"All those years, I took care of you when you were sick and I made you take medicine-"

Dean stiffened against his pillows and fisted the sheets. He let out a groan.

"C..crap…" was all Dean could get out.

Sam went back to the bed and held Dean's shoulders, if only to let him know he was there.

"Bobby, is there anything we can do?" Sam pleaded.

"I'm sorry, Sam, there isn't. Dean has to ride it out until it's out of his system."

Bobby hated that he didn't have something better to tell both of the boys.

Dean then raised his right hand up to let Sam know he was gaining control of the pain, swallowing air as he tried.

"I'm…okay…p…pain…passing…you can…let go."

Sam released Dean and watched him collapse against the headboard of the bed, still breathing with difficulty.

"Help…me…lay…down…so…tired…hurts everywhere," Dean gasped. His whole body was yearning to be laid on the bed.

Sam eased Dean down. Dean felt the weariness hit him like a ton of bricks and he couldn't stop himself from falling asleep. Once he was out for the count, Sam put the covers over him and sat back on his bed, exhausted himself.

"You're doing fine, Sam," Bobby comforted as best as he could.

Sam's face turned wistful again, too tired to think and just allowing his mind to go wherever it wanted. Stray memories were just flooding in at random, some from the recent past, some from when they were kids.

"You know, there was this one time, when I had a really high fever like Dean does now. I was imagining all kinds of things. I was dreaming that some kind of monster was coming after me and I was thrashing about. Dean tried to hold me down and I clocked him really hard. Didn't knock him out, but he had a bruise on his jaw for weeks. He never said a word, wouldn't have told me I'd done it, if it weren't for the bruise. He pretended as if it wasn't even there, that it had never happened."

Sam sheepishly grinned. Bobby allowed himself a grin too.

"Another time, I dislocated my shoulder and it hurt so bad, I couldn't stop crying. Dean told me to close my eyes and to just listen to his voice and he started talking about something that I can't even remember now, but he was doing it to distract me. Just as he finished his story, he yanked on my arm and put the shoulder back in. It hurt for that one moment, but then felt better."

Sam looked over at Dean's restless figure on the bed.

"He did all that for me, all of my life. Oh, I've fixed him here and there, maybe stitched him up now and again, but he's done so much more for me than just patch me up. When I would be lonely or worried about Dad, he'd tell me that our Dad was a superhero and that he'd back soon then there would be Dad, all okay like he had promised. Every time I got worried about anything, Dean would reassure me and tell me everything would be all right. He's never lied to me, at least never to hurt me and he's never broken a promise to me…can you believe that? I'm sure he'll say he has, but right now, I can't think of a single time."

Sam's voice quavered and he took in a breath.

"When I asked him to tell me about mom, you could tell he didn't want to think about it, let alone talk about it, but he knew that I wanted to know so he would tell me stuff that he knew Dad never would, like how happy mom was that she was having me, how she told Dean that he was going to be a big brother. Little things like that."

Sam paused and his throat caught with emotion again.

"It's all I can think about these days, those little things Dean used to do for me. No matter how much it hurt him, he would do anything he could do for me and…"

Sam looked over at Dean's sleeping form.

"I can't even take this little bit of pain away from him."

**Oooo**

**TBC**


	4. Chapter 4

The Little Things Count More

**The Little Things Count More**

**CHAPTER 4**

Bobby watched the pain on Sam's face and was at a loss at how to comfort him except to share more memories with him, to give him as much of the Dean he knew to him. It was the only gift he had left to give.

"Perfectly understandable, Sam," Bobby said. "I remember him being pretty protective of you until he got to know someone. I remember when your dad first brought you boys to my place because it had been on the way to a hunt. You couldn't have been more than 5 and Dean, he wouldn't let me near you until he was sure I wouldn't hurt you."

Bobby laughed a little.

"He was fierce even then."

Sam snorted, "Yeh, I can see that."

Sam and Bobby heard Dean moaning in the background and Sam went over to check on him. As he got closer, he heard what Dean was mumbling.

"My dad told me to protect Sam so don't come any closer," Dean said, in a voice that was more like a little boy than his usual bass tone.

"What?" Sam said, confused.

"He'll be back to get us when the hunt's over," Dean continued.

"Is he hallucinating, Bobby?" Sam asked.

"Sounds like it."

"Bobby? You're the Bobby that Dad's always talking about?"

Sam turned to look at Bobby and saw Bobby smile.

"What? What is it?"

"He's remembering when we first met."

Bobby was both surprised and warmed with affection at the thought that Dean was remembering the same thing in his fevered dreams. Sam looked back to his brother.

"Should we wake him?"

"No need. I think it might be better to let Dean sleep. It's not a nightmare or anything."

Sam nodded, but had a concerned look on his face.

"What?"

"Nothing. Just tired."

"Why don't you get some shut eye? I can watch Dean for awhile."

"I know. I'm tired, but I just can't sleep."

Bobby shook his head at the dogged stubbornness that ran in the Winchester family.

"Tell me about Dean as a kid," Sam said.

"On one condition and that's if you sit yourself on the bed and try to sleep. The least you can do is humor an old coot."

Sam smiled and nodded as he headed to the bed. He got himself comfortable, almost as if getting ready to be told a bedtime story. It made Bobby smile in return.

"Well, Dean was a talker even then. Once he didn't think I'd be a threat to you, he started to tell me about how great your dad was and that it was his job to take care of you. He acted pretty proud of himself for that, by the way. He asked me about your mom and dad. If I had known your mom and how long I had known your dad, you know, things like that. I didn't know much about your mom. Your father wasn't very forthcoming as you can probably guess, but Dean took pleasure in telling me about her as if he was the only one who really knew her," Bobby related with a smile on his face.

"What did he say about her?"

"What most children say about their moms, that she was the best mom in the world, that she loved you and Dean, that she didn't want to leave you both…"

Bobby stopped himself, worried that saying more would cause Sam unnecessary pain. When he looked over, not surprisingly, Sam had fallen dead asleep. He then heard Dean moaning in his sleep. He went over and took the towel from the bowl of water, wrung it out and placed it on Dean's face. Once again, Dean woke up, looking pale and tired.

"Bobby?" Dean rasped.

"Yeh, Dean, how you feeling? You thirsty?"

Dean licked his lips and nodded. Bobby brought over a bowl of ice chips so that Dean wouldn't have to get up to drink from a glass. He placed a chip in Dean's mouth and he accepted with a sigh.

"That better?"

"Yeh, thanks…when did you learn bedside manner?" Dean joked, his voice sounding like he had gravel in his throat.

Bobby smiled.

"You get to be my age, you learn some things."

Dean nodded again.

"Did you have to do this for Dad too?" Dean asked.

Bobby was taken by surprise, but smiled.

"It went both ways," Bobby said.

"Why didn't you marry again and have kids?" Dean asked tentatively then realized it was probably too personal a question. "If you don't want to tell me –"

Bobby smiled again only it was tinged with sadness.

"It's okay, Dean," Bobby paused. "I guess I just couldn't put someone else through what my wife went through. I was selfish too. Couldn't bear watching someone else I loved get hurt like that again…and kids well…don't get me wrong, your father, he did right by you two boys. I won't lie and say that I approved of him bringing you into hunting, but truth be told, he did all right. You're both fine young men. He may have had his faults, but I know for sure that he was really proud of you both. And he loved you both. I just didn't think I could do the same."

Dean nodded then sighed and let his gaze wander to a random part of the room.

"Do you think he'd be proud at what I did?"

Bobby stared at Dean's shadowy profile then swallowed, a look of pride and determination on his face.

"I know he is, Dean. As sure I know he's free from Hell, I know that he is as proud as a father could be for what you have you done."

"I hope so…I hope I can…" Dean said, but stopped his train of thought.

Dean didn't need to continue. Bobby already knew what he was going to say, but didn't complete his thought. Some things were better left unsaid.

**oooo**

**TBC**


	5. Chapter 5

The Little Things Count More

**The Little Things Count More**

**CHAPTER 5**

Bobby watched as Dean's eyes blinked slowly, aching to close.

"Go back to sleep, Dean. Sam is okay, he's snoozing right next to you."

"Hurts…can't sleep."

"I wish I could do more for you," Bobby said.

"It's okay, Bobby. How many more hours do I have to get through?" Dean joked.

"Several, I'm afraid," Bobby hated saying.

"Piece of cake," Dean joked again, a groan escaping his lips.

Dean's face then contorted and his throat made noises in a way that Bobby recognized and he knew Dean was going to throw up. He grabbed the bathroom waste paper basket nearby and held it for him, bracing him tightly in his grip, making sure that Dean wouldn't need to exert too much of his waning strength on trying to prop himself up. Once he was done, Bobby wiped Dean's lips with another towel and gave him more ice chips. Dean moaned in exhaustion and relief.

"Guess I shouldn't have used a food metaphor, huh?" Dean still managed to joke, weak as he was. "Thanks…sorry, I'm being such a wussy."

"Nonsense, Dean. This venom's a real nasty one."

"You're…telling me. You know, I've never had the flu before? Sam used to get them a lot."

"Sam said that you seemed immune."

"Guess so, but after this, I'm getting flu shots."

Bobby lightly laughed, but felt sad over the thought that Dean would never get those flu shots he was joking about.

"Dean, try to go back to sleep."

"Tell this to Sam and I'll deny it, but you know, I didn't really mind taking care of him."

Bobby looked into Dean's sincere face and smiled.

"Your secret's safe with me," Bobby joked.

"He could be a real baby sometimes, but I kinda felt bad that he didn't have mom to comfort him. All he had was me. I couldn't be mom, but I remember how patient she was with me when I'd whine and complain because I was feeling bad. Sam deserved that too…" Dean trailed off, taking a moment to breathe in a large sigh. "The little things, they count, you know?"

Bobby felt his throat constrict with emotion at Dean's compassion towards his brother.

"Yeh, they do," Bobby agreed softly.

"Bobby?"

"Yeh?"

"Do you think we can win this war?"

Bobby was struck dumb and silent for a moment by the question. In his heart, he wanted to tell Dean that he believed that they could, that good would prevail over evil, but he would think back to how unjust he felt the world was to take someone as good as Dean out of the battle and couldn't find the will to say that to him.

"I want to believe we can, but truth is, I don't know."

Dean nodded.

"Wish I could be there to see you win," Dean said, his smile genuine.

Bobby couldn't utter a word. He had been struck speechless. The thought of not seeing Dean there with them at the end, no matter what the outcome, was too painful to entertain.

"I told Henriksen that I thought the world was going to end bloody, but that it didn't mean we shouldn't go down fighting…that I was…planning to go down fighting…but after Nancy…after Ruby suggested we kill her to save ourselves and I watched Sammy hesitate…then tell me it was a good choice…that others would die if we didn't…I…I realized that it wasn't enough just to fight, we **do** have to win, but not Ruby's way…by choosing to kill an innocent…to survive…maybe I'm fooling myself…but I can't win that way."

"You're not fooling yourself, Dean. Doing evil begets more evil. Simple as that. The only reason we humans survive at all is because people like you believe that doing the right thing is the only thing that can defeat evil."

Dean looked into Bobby's eyes.

"Help Sam believe that, Bobby…can't let him think that's the way you win wars."

Dean's eyes then drifted closed. Bobby was selfishly grateful that he didn't have to make a promise he wasn't sure he could keep.

**oooo**

**TBC**


	6. Chapter 6

The Little Things Count More

**The Little Things Count More**

**CHAPTER 6**

After several more hours of suffering, Dean's fever finally broke and the pain had stopped. Dean still felt weak and could barely walk to the bathroom, a fact that only irked him no end when he had to ask for help. Bobby and Sam would delight in the knowledge that a complaining Dean was a Dean on the road to recovery.

After a couple more days of solid food and moving around, Dean was almost back to his old self again. Bobby had watched as Sam finally got to nurse Dean back and smiled at the delicate caring gestures Sam gave Dean despite Dean's resistance. It had been a refreshing view into two young men, who, if you didn't know they were hunters of evil demons and spirits, would have just seemed like two ordinary brothers, one taking care of the other. Bobby wanted to freeze the moment in time because as much as he wanted it to be, they weren't just two ordinary brothers, one was dying in the least conventional way imaginable and the other was slowly coming to reluctant terms to a future without his big brother. It pained Bobby to his soul.

Sam packed their stuff into the trunk and Dean, for one of the very few times in their lives, had given Sam the keys to the Impala. Dean knew that he was still in no condition to drive his baby and facing Sam's glee was less humiliating than crashing the car into a tree. As Sam smirked, Dean glared and reminded Sam to not get used to it. As Sam climbed into the car and closed the door, he paused for a moment and looked over at Dean. Dean noticed and gave him a puzzled look.

"What?" Dean asked.

"Um…I was thinking, maybe we should take some time off, you know, do something different, something we've never done like see the Grand Canyon."

Dean listened to his brother's shy appeal to him and relaxed. Sam was admitting something that Dean thought he never would. Sam was coming to terms, if reluctantly, to Dean leaving in a month. It didn't mean that Sam was accepting his trip to Hell, Dean wouldn't expect him to, but he was giving him a chance to walk away from the life, if just for a little while. If it had been a year ago, Dean might have taken him up on his offer, but knowing that he only had a little time left, he knew he couldn't walk away, not now. He had remembered what Bobby had said about not being able to walk away himself. For as long as he had left on this Earth, Dean had to fight for Sam. Even if others believed it was a losing battle, Dean didn't believe that anymore. Every battle counted. Every moment together fighting counted, not to just being human, but also to being a big brother.

"Thanks, Sam. I appreciate what you're doing, but I can't."

"Why not?" Sam said, his voice hovering dangerously close to pleading with him. "Haven't we both fought enough? Don't we deserve time just to be brothers again?"

"We've always been brothers, Sammy. We've never stopped being brothers and that's why I can't walk away."

"I don't understand…"

"Back at Monument, I thought fighting was enough. I even told that to Henriksen, but when I watched Nancy offer to give her life to save her friends to a demon who didn't give a rat's ass about who she was or what she was doing, I realized she was worth **winning** the war for, that her life couldn't have been sacrificed for nothing. **You** are worth winning the war for," Dean said.

Sam looked at him and swallowed hard.

"All Ruby saw was that the end justifies the means. I meant what I said, Sam. If that's the way to winning wars, I don't want to win, not that way. I don't think you do either. Good has to win because we choose not to sacrifice innocents, to not make those kinds of choices."

Sam watched the conviction and belief in Dean's tired, but determined eyes, flair into a fire that he, himself, had seen and felt. Dean wanted make what time he had left to count for something. Sam wouldn't sway him from that choice with all the brotherly pleading in the world and something inside of him told him that he didn't want to.

Dean looked at Sam and tried to find the words to say what he knew Sam would reject in his heart, but that he had already known in his head.

"After I'm gone, do everything you can to win this war. I know there are no guarantees. Hell, until a month ago, I was ready to write off the world and be happy to just go down fighting, but I don't believe that anymore. You can't stop trying. I know it's a lot to lay on you and I'm sorry I didn't think about that when I made that deal, but what's going to happen to me is not a reason to surrender, to give in and let the world…well…go to Hell. You and Bobby, you can win this. Believing is everything, Sammy, and I believe you can do it. I don't know how, but I know you will."

Sam bit his lip then nodded his head and smiled.

"Okay, Dean," Sam said simply.

Dean then sat back into the passenger seat of the Impala, still feeling exhausted after barely exerting himself, two states that were completely alien to him. He closed his eyes, placed his shades over them then smiled.

"Enjoy it while you can, Sammy, 'cuz as soon as I'm back to my old handsome self, I'm taking my baby back.

Sam couldn't help, but laugh at the thought. If he were to admit it, he liked it when Dean was behind the wheel. When he was, everything felt right, the way it should always be.

"_House rules, Sammy. Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole."_

Sam turned on the tape deck, blared Motorhead through the speakers, knowing the music would lull Dean asleep then started the engine. It roared with comforting familiarity.

It was the little things that counted most.

**oooo**

**Fin **

**Thanks for reading and for telling me that you've been enjoying the story. Thanks for the great reviews. They are always appreciated.**


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